


Sick Day

by mcmachine



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Friendship, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 20:21:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14838539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcmachine/pseuds/mcmachine
Summary: April comes down sick and has to take a day off of work. Jackson sticks around to help take care of her.





	Sick Day

**_ APRIL _ **

"I'm… I'm totally fine."

I gave a slight shake of my head to try and get rid of Jackson and his worry about me, rubbing the back of my hand against one of my eyes. My lids were way too heavy and they had been all day, but it didn't seem like DayQuil was about to make that go away anytime soon.

As much as I wanted to just suck it up and go to work, though, I knew that it wasn't a good idea to go around infecting patients. Residents weren't supposed to take sick days and yet, we weren't supposed to be the cause of infections. It was too easy to get sick at the hospital and I didn't want to contribute to that. No doctor liked being sick. Being a baby surgeon did not make me an exception to the rule.

"You don't look fine." Karev snorted out obtusely. Not the input I wanted nor needed.

"Thank you," I muttered back weakly, pulling my blanket higher up my body.

"He's right, April," Jackson threw in though his voice was softer than Alex's. "It's obvious that you're sick. There's no way that you're going to work today." For a brief moment, I hated him, because he already was over hours this week and wasn't working.

Giving a shake of my head, I try to tune out the both of them regardless of how right they are. If I just laid there for a few more minutes, then I would be fine and ready to go again for work. I just needed a few minutes of peace.

"Whatever," Alex snorted. "I'm going with or without you." That, I did believe.

"I'll drive myself," I sighed out with a shake of my head, seeing his figure retreat for only a brief moment before shutting my eyes tightly. I had a headache no matter how I tried to deny it.

I really, really hated being sick.

"You know that you shouldn't go in," Jackson remarked with a shake of my head before disappearing from the doorway of my bedroom. He left the door open to my annoyance, but it won't matter in a few minutes. I can feel myself on the verge of sleep and knew that if I shifted just a little to make myself more comfortable in the bed, then I was going to be out like a light.

When I finally give in and begin to move my hips so I could position myself just right to sleep, his blurry figure had reappeared in my doorway. I squinted my eyes before realizing that he's got a cup of something in his hands.

"What are you doing?" I asked, wishing that I had put my contacts in.

"Taking care of you since you won't take care of yourself," Jackson answered simply.

"I can take care of myself," I reminded him as he set down the cup on my nightstand.

"I know," he quipped. "But that doesn't mean you will."

Even if I don't want him to be, he was right. I let out a loud groan so we both knew what I was thinking, pulling the duvet on my bed up and over my face for a moment. It's the only way that I could keep warm at the moment even if it would inevitably only take a few seconds for the switch to flip, and me to be suddenly be sweating.

"Hydration is important," he reminded me. I groaned again, shifting up and reaching out from beneath the covers to grab onto the mug. It's warm – tea, my taste buds tell me after I've taken a small sip from it. Even a little bit causes my throat to ache.

"Thank you," I whispered out, offering him a weak smile. "I don't remember the last time that I got sick, to be honest." Maybe because I always pretended I wasn't.

Jackson gave a slight snort before plopping down on the bed down by my knees, mattress shifting slightly under his weight. I had thought that he might just leave the tea at that, but I guess that he didn't have much else to do given he didn't have work. Well, that wasn't true. I could think of plenty of things – we're running low on most basic groceries, there's always laundry to be done between him and Alex, and I'm sure that the bathroom they share is a disaster zone. I'm not sure which is more boring to him, me or cleaning. I guess right now, it's me.

"Well, at least this way I'm kind of still working, right?" Jackson teased. There was kind of an answer, at least. I sniffled, trying to suck in a deep breath, and gave a shook of my head.

"Not funny," I muttered. "It's probably just tonsillitis."

"You still have your tonsils in?" He asked and I nodded to answer. I stilled slightly as he reached over toward me and placed his hand on my throat, pressing into my lymph nodes to see if they were swollen. I can already tell that they are.

His hand went to my jaw next and I half-rolled my eyes as he pulled open my mouth but don't resist, letting him look at my throat. The lights in my room are off still, the only light coming in through the opened blinds, and I know that realistically he probably can't see a thing. But I was sure that they were already red and swollen. The other symptoms match. Jackson felt my forehead next with the back of his hand, and his hand felt wonderfully cool.

"You've got a pretty high fever," he remarked.

"Your hands feel nice." I returned, practically brushing over his words and grabbing onto it, holding it against my warm face for a minute longer.

"I'm gonna go see if there's anything in the medicine cabinet for you." Jackson murmured gently, slowly pulling his hand away from me and standing up to walk out of the room for a few moments.

I took another sip from the tea, a little weak but at the moment it's probably a good thing, before settling down on my bed again and keeping the sheets pulled up to my shoulders. I don't know when my room got so cold, but today I can't stand it. Thermoregulation was not my friend.

My eyes found themselves shut on their own discretion, heaviness just a little too much to combat without conversation or something else to focus on. When did my bed become so comfortable?

"Here," Jackson distracted me as he reentered. "Tylenol. Do you want any salt water to gargle?"

"No," I shook my head. "I just want to lay here." I breathed out. "Maybe I should study."

His eyes rolled at me. "You don't need to be studying right now." He disagreed. "Trust me. You need to take it easy and probably sleep it off as much as you can. Just go ahead and take the Tylenol. It'll help."

"Can never be too prepared," I muttered. Jackson shook his head.

"You're sick. You're not going to work. So take a real day off of work, okay?" He prompted me. I don't really want to listen to him – the last thing that I want to do is get behind. I'm chief resident. I still have a lot to prove to everyone, given the fact that none of them liked to accept the fact that I was technically the boss of them. Taking a day off wasn't going to help my case by any matter. I could already hear Meredith and Cristina mocking me in my head.

That's something that he wouldn't understand, though. He was the Gunther, a natural leader. Everyone else seemed to be better at leadership than I was, and yet I was still the one who had been picked. Funny how that worked.

"Okay," I mumbled, reaching over for the Tylenol and popping it into my mouth, swallowing it with the tea that he had brought me. "But you don't have to babysit me."

"I'm not babysitting you." Jackson disagreed.

"Then what are you doing?" I squinted at him for a moment, flopping back against my pillow.

"Being your friend." He stated it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I stared at him for just a moment. "Will you do something for me then?"

"Anything," he answered quickly.

"You're so warm and I'm so cold. Will you just lay with me for a few minutes till I fall asleep again?" I requested, widening my eyes and offering just a little bit of a pitiful smile.

"Yeah, okay," Jackson agreed with a nod of his head.

The bed shifted beneath both of our weights once again as he lowered himself down next to me. I gave a slight adjustment to make more room for him on the bed, shutting my eyes for a brief moment. An instant warmth was provided as Jackson laid across the bed next to me and I moved so that I was pressed up against him, letting all the warmth that he could provide fill me up.

"Is this okay?" He asked, placing one of his hands on my shoulder. It was a little oddly placed, not quite natural, but I was too tired to think much about it.

"Yeah, it's okay," I muttered out, shifting back against him once more. His hand fell from where it was so that his arm was wrapped around my waist, resting in front of my belly button. "You're so warm," I added.

"That's just the fever talking." He pointed out. "Pretty sure you're the hot one right now."

"Now you're fever-talking." A slight laugh came out along with the words leaving my mouth, snuggling back against him in what felt like a pretty normal move.

"Guess you got me there." Jackson chuckled. "Just try and get some sleep, alright?"

"Yeah, okay," I grumbled.

My eyes shut again and I let out a deep breath, finding myself comfortable curled up against him like this. I don't know the last time I hadn't had this bed to myself. Probably, well, never. But it was nice to not be alone in here for a few minutes.

Each breath that Jackson took could be felt against my backside, and I could barely feel it tickling the back of my neck. It was surprisingly nice. I'm not used to having a lot of human touches, especially not this close to me. I've missed it, just a little bit. If I could miss something that I had never had. It sure felt like I could. I liked cuddling with him, even though I knew he was only doing this because I was sick and if Alex had seen this, the mocking would have never stopped.

Before I know any differently, I'm asleep. There was something weird happening – something with a pig and Jackson and tangled clothes on a hanger. There was something with a suitcase and some random guy, too. I didn't know who he was but there was something familiar about it.

"Oh, there's a…" I mumbled out, twisting over just a little bit.

"April," Jackson stated clearly, one of his hands wrapped around my wrist. "Apes, you alright? 'Cause you just punched me in the face." He said, pulling me out of the sleep daze that I was in.

"Huh?" I questioned, wetting my chapped lips. "Oh. You're still here." I observed slowly, flopping forward so I was laying on my stomach and turning my head toward him.

"Uh-huh." He gave a slight nod of his head. "You talk in your sleep. It was free entertainment."

"No, I don't." I denied immediately.

Jackson laughed loudly. "Oh, yes you do."

"No, no, no." I continued to disagree.

"Yup," he continued to grin before beginning to tease me. "You totally do. You definitely just sleep confessed that you were undeniably attracted and in love with me, actually. Not that I can blame you, I mean, look at all of this." He motioned to himself as he spoke.

"You're the worst," I groaned, covering up my face with one hand.

"You make it so easy." Jackson reminded me with a shake of his head, but there was still a clear grin across his expression. I didn't know if he was right, but it felt like it with how everyone always poked at me.

"What time is it?" I asked, blinking a few times and rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand. "And what are you still doing here?"

He turned away for a moment, looking at the clock. "A little past noon," he answered. "I told you, free entertainment. I wanted to see if you'd let out any big, dark secrets along with your babbling." He continued.

"Oh. You've been here awhile." I remarked, eyes shutting for a minute and taking a deep breath.

"You going to go back to sleep again?" Jackson asked, keeping me from drifting off.

"No, no," I answered. "I'll get up in just a minute. Promise."

"You don't need to get up. You're sick. Relax, you don't have to act like a stubborn patient. No one else is here except for you and me." He reminded me, placing his hand on my arm and rubbing it up and down for a moment.

I don't offer him a verbal response, turning onto my side so that I'm facing him properly and tucking one of my arms beneath my head. It's a little more comfortable and not quite as bad on my back. No position is perfectly comfortable, though. Everything was a little bit sore. I needed to pop my back, definitely. But that was a lot of twisting and moving around.

"Why don't you take a shower and I'll make some soup? The steam might do you some good." Jackson suggested.

"Do you even know how to make good soup?" I questioned, brows furrowing together.

"It's in a can. You heat it up. It's not that hard." He answered, a slight chuckle escaping.

"Fine, fine." I shook my head.

Waiting for him to get up, I take the hand that he offered me to help me get out of the bed. My head spun for a moment but I gathered myself slowly, dragging my feet to the bathroom and twisting it on. I stripped down and got in, but I don't bother with washing my hair or anything else, just standing under the stream of hot water and trying to let it relax me. My sinuses feel a little better than before and it does wake me up, certainly. The Tylenol had kicked in some, I could feel it now.

The shower is a long and steamy one, mirror covered in steam by the time that I get out of it. Drying off, I don't bother with my normal routine after getting out – no lotion or hair product, just squeezing out some of the excess water from my hair with my towel, and pulling on pajama shorts and an old t-shirt.

Fortunately, the heat had helped with some of the stiffness and soreness in my muscles, too. Or maybe that was the Tylenol too – I wasn't sure. It was probably getting near time for another one given how early that I had woken up in the first place, but, I was thinking more about taking a Cepacol than that. A sore throat was the worst of it at the moment and anything that would help with that was desperately wanted.

Making my way to the kitchen, Jackson was already done warming the soup, pouring the red liquid from out of the pot and into a coffee mug. Tomato soup. Perfect, my favorite.

"Thank you," I offered him a soft smile. "You remembered I like to drink it." A quirk, sure.

"Also, Alex didn't clean the dishes, so we don't have any bowls at the moment." He grinned at me with a shrug of his shoulders. "But I'm about to get started on that."

"Maybe I should get sick more often," I said as I picked up the mug, sicking at the soup. It was warm and felt both good going down my wrist and a little painful when I had to actually swallow it. It would feel good by the time I was finished, hopefully. "If it's going to be the only thing to get one of you to clean up this place."

Jackson shrugged. "It wouldn't be your worst plan."

I sat down at the kitchen table to drink the soup as he cleaned the dishes in the sink and began to load up the dishwasher with them. I'd probably have to unload it later, but at least it was loaded in the first place.

"Did I really talk in my sleep?" I asked, slouching back in my chair and holding the mug on my thigh.

"Yep." He answered simply.

"Please promise me that you'll never tell Alex that," I begged, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Yeah, I can promise that." Jackson grinned, putting a detergent pod in the dishwasher machine and shutting it, turning it on before joining me at the table. "Pretty good blackmail material, just in case."

Shaking my head, I rolled my eyes. "You're the worst."

"And yet you're still totally obsessed with me." He was clearly far too amused with all of this.

"I hate you so much." I groaned out, sipping the soup again.

"Yet I'm still you're best friend." The fact was stated clearly, his eyebrows raising as if he was daring me to disagree with it. Of course, there was no way that I was going to do so. He was my best friend for sure. He had been, well, not since the internship at Mercy West had started, but at least since the shooting had happened and we had lost our best friends. We had found solace in each other.

"Yeah. Yeah, you are." I agreed with a soft smile.

I liked him, a lot. I wasn't going to lie about that. He was closer to me than anyone else.

"So, does that mean I can convince you to maybe get some laundry started? I get tired of cleaning your underwear and your flings underwear." I tried to take advantage of the moment and see what I could get, raising my eyebrows.

"I'll promise no flings underwear." Jackson offered.

"Yeah, I guess I can settle for that." I shook my head with the words, lifting up the mug and finishing off the rest of the soup inside of the mug. "I think I'm gonna lay down for a few more minutes."

"Do you want me to join you again?" He asked.

"Yeah, that'd be nice."


End file.
